


Privileged motion

by Pegship



Category: Castle
Genre: Anniversary, F/M, Season/Series 08 Spoilers, Separations, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegship/pseuds/Pegship
Summary: Kate asks Rick to celebrate a special day with her; Rick doesn't think the day is special. Yet. No resolution is reached, but a step toward agreement is made. Set some time around 8x05; not canon compliant.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "Privileged motions deal with things relating to ... situations so important they may interrupt pending business." - Robert's Rules of Order.

Kate knows better than to just show up at the loft. That kind of spontaneity doesn’t really suit their current status - not that she knows what that is - plus, once inside, she’s not sure how easy it would be to walk out. Again.

She’s been doing that far too much lately.

So she calls Castle’s cell and leaves a voicemail.

“Hey Castle, it’s me. Call me when you get a chance? It’s not about a body, it’s...personal. Hope the writing’s going well.”

She manages to not say “babe” at the end. She’s sad that she thinks of that as an accomplishment.

\---

At lunchtime, the man himself turns up.

“Captain,” he says in a grave tone, which is belied by the sunny grin on the face he sticks around the corner of her office door.

“Hey,” says Kate. “Wanna grab some lunch?”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Kate Beckett? She doesn’t take lunch unless dragged kicking and screaming from the precinct.”

“I have to keep the masses guessing,” she says lightly.

“How about the Chinese place on Cleveland?”

Chinese it is. Once they’re seated and served, Kate decides to forge ahead. But before she can speak, Rick says, “Here it comes.”

“What?” she says, startled.

“Something that’s going to be hard for you to say, and hard for me to hear,” he says. “Not a divorce - you’re still wearing your ring, and you don’t have any papers on you, though I’d be happy to search you.”

He waggles his eyebrows, but it’s halfhearted. He goes on, “You still have the loft key on your ring, not separate, so you’re not trying to return that. If you wanted to ban me from the precinct, it would make sense to tell me when I’m not actually there, so that might be it.”

Unable to get a word in, Kate raises her hand, exasperated. Rick gives her a nod.

“Our anniversary is coming up,” she blurts out. If she weren’t feeling so apprehensive, his expression would make her laugh. It seems she’s caught him completely by surprise, a rare occasion. He cocks his head, as if to say, “Go on,” so she does.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out, on the day. To dinner. With me.”

Flashing across his face in quick succession are confusion, then comprehension, then annoyance, and finally, resignation.

She waits him out. Finally he speaks, but doesn’t answer.

“Why?” he asks in a flat tone.

“It’s important,” she replies. “Our first year. The milestone we reached. The obstacles we had to overcome. It’s a celebration.”

“Of what?” says Rick. “Our marriage? Really, Kate? As far as I’m concerned, we haven’t made it to a year, yet. You lopped off what, about six weeks, when you left your home. Our home.”

“I’m trying to find something positive in all this mess,” says Kate, stung. “Something that means something positive to both of us.”

Something to keep us both going when we can’t be together, she thinks, but she knows what he’d say to that. And he does, or something like it.

“In all this mess,” he says, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “The mess you can’t tell me about, except to tell me to stay out of it. That I can’t help you or back you up or even make you dinner at the end of the day - the day you can’t tell me about.”

“I want that,” she says passionately. “I want all that - I want to tell you, I want to eat dinner with you, I want to - to go to bed with you and wake up with you.”

“What’s stopping you, Kate?” His tone has turned soft, curious, almost gentle. Kate shakes her head.

“I swear, I will tell you everything. When this is all over. Just - right now, I just want to do something normal - like have dinner with you on our anniversary.”

He seems to search her face; her eyes are brimming with tears. At last, he sighs.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he says quietly. “I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy, Beckett. You know that. I don’t want to ‘celebrate’ an occasion that doesn’t mean anything, and the fact that you’re behaving as though we’re not married doesn’t change that. Rings and paperwork don’t make a marriage. Neither do words spoken in front of witnesses. What makes a marriage is two people who are determined to stay connected, committed to each other, whatever the cost.”

“Even the cost of a life?” That’s more than she wanted to say, but how else can she tell him how serious this is?

“Whose life, Beckett? Yours? Mine? Vikram’s? I can’t speak for Vikram, but for the last seven years you and I have been laying down our lives for each other. How is this situation any different? Kate - “

He reaches over to take her hand, pleading.

“If it’s dangerous, I have a right to know. Just like you’d have a right to know if I was the one disappearing into - “

He stops cold, as if realizing what he’s saying. Kate’s eyes snap up to his, anger blazing through her tears.

“If you were the one disappearing into a void,” she finishes for him. “You keep telling me it wasn’t your choice, but one choice you supposedly did make was to have your memory conveniently erased.”

“It was a case of national security.”

“Neither of us knows that,” says Kate. “Not for sure. If I had been there, I would have talked you out of it. Somehow. Because we’re better as a team, and you shutting me out is not teamwork.”

Now it’s her turn to stop and realize what she’s said. She refuses to burst into tears in public, so she chokes out, “I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s a bad idea. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She stands straight and makes a beeline for the exit. Once outside, she glances around; the precinct is close enough that hailing a cab would offend her sensibility. Still, she wants to put distance between herself and her husband. The man she has let down in such a spectacular fashion.

Too late. He comes out the door a minute later, probably lingering only long enough to leave cash on their table, and lays a hand on her arm, carefully.

“Hey,” he says. “Let’s not part ways like this. Let me walk you back to the precinct.”

She nods, a bit limply, and takes his arm. They walk for about half a block before she speaks.

“When I came to your door, the night Maddox almost killed me,” she says, “I said that all I wanted was you. That’s still true, Rick. Every day - every night. I’m not on some mission for the sake of my thirst for justice.”

“What is the mission, then?” he asks. His hand slides down to capture hers.

“If I told you why I - why we have to separate, for now, you’d - well, you’d want to forget all over again. I can’t let you see or hear what I’m doing. It’s bad enough that Vikram and I are investigating - the more people we let in on the investigation, the higher the risk. I fell into it by way of a thoughtless act, two years ago, and I have to dig my way out before I can stop watching my back. And yours.”

“Dare I quote my mother? ‘A burden shared is a burden lightened’,” says Rick. “Remember what I said way back when, about Melanie Cavanaugh, the runaway bride?”

“Some people love the institution, hate the day-to-day,” Kate recalled. “How does that apply?”

“I love both the concept and the execution of marriage,” he tells her. “In my mind, the two are inseparable. If you’re not physically living at the loft, or anywhere, with me, there’s still a mental and emotional connection that has to go both ways. You can call it trust, or shared brain, or whatever you like...that’s what I miss most.”

Kate looks up at him, as they stand sheltered from wind in the corner of a building, and something seems to sink in at last.

“Let me - give me some time,” she says. “Let me figure out what I can share. I’ll give you what I can - maybe we can go from there?”

He smiles, for the first time in what seems like hours.

“Tell you what,” he says. “Come to my office, the night of. We’ll have a drink, and you can tell me whatever you can. And before you ask, my PI office inner sanctum has more counter-surveillance features than Fort Knox.”

She feels herself smile, too. That will do - for now.

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot ended up as part of a larger story, "Anything could happen", but I wanted to post it in its original form as well.


End file.
